For the Love of God
by Cygna-hime
Summary: Seto contemplating the death of his adopted father. I realized I never write Seto stories, so....remember, flames are for my flamethrower. Use wisely.


For the Love of God  
  
Well, I'm ba-ack. And I haaave...a Seto angst! Well, not exactly angst. Introspective. So someone has to disclaim. Seto, this is a story just for you, get in here this minute and do the disclaimer!  
  
Seto:*strolls in precisely 59 seconds later* All right, then. Disclaimer: Cygna-hime does not claim ownership of Yu-Gi-Oh in any way, shape, or form. She has yet to receive money for writing, although the characters are considering paying her to leave off.  
  
Are they really? Well, that's interesting. Seto, you've seen the fic, any comments?  
  
Seto:As far as such things go, it's not half bad. At any rate, if you're going to put thoughts in my head I most definitely prefer these to the 'unrequited love' thoughts other people do. Or, for that matter. the 'requited love' thoughts. Go on, then.  
  
He's just really happy because the secondary category isn't 'romance'. Go Edgar Allen Poe for inspiring me with his story 'A Cask of Amontillado'. 'I determined not only to punish, but to punish with impunity.' On with the fic! (Warning:Death of utterly unsympathetic character, wah wah.)  
  
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"He's dead."  
  
I cannot attempt to convey how relieved I was to hear those words. For a moment a wave of dread had washed over me. What if he'd lived, after all? If he were to survive, knowing what he knew...But no. There had been no miracle to save him.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
It would have taken no less than a miracle to pick him up off the sidewalk and set him before me, but I feared it nevertheless. That was all there had been to fear; the evidence would show that I had left his presence an hour before his death. The black-haired stranger who had brought an urgent message for Gozaburo Kaiba would never be traced. How could he be, when that packet of temporary hairdye had been in my drawer for months, bought for a costume party? When the slacks and jacket were ones anyone could own, and there was an opened letter on the table detailing the failure of his pet project? Nobody could prove he hadn't jumped from his office window. They could suspect anything they pleased, there was no proof. No, I had no alibi, I was working on a new design alone in my room. There would be no way of proving I had left for ten minutes-less! Gozaburo had not been himself lately. The verdict: Suicide.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
It was too easy. The project he was so fond of had been doomed from the start. I didn't even have to help it along. As soon as he died, it crashed for good. It was the perfect opportunity, and I am an opportunist in my own way. The inspiration of the moment, one of the things my so-called father lectured me on for hours on end. Congratulations, *father*, I finally learned th Art of War you were so determined to teach me. Would you still have taught me if you had known? Yes, I think you would. My father is-was- like that. He didn't think I was a threat. More fool he.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
The look on his face was wonderful. He didn't recognize me until we were in his soundproof office. Then he was finally aware of why I had come, even if he hoped to brazen it out. He asked me what I wanted. He actually thought I would go away for a bribe! And what did I tell him?  
  
"Revenge," I said. I backed him across the room. He saw the open window behind him. He knew what I meant to do. The fool tried one last time to awaken my mercy, the mercy he himself had killed.  
  
"For the love of God, Seto!" he cried. I paused, giving him time to fear. He was almost out the window.  
  
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God." I reached out a hand and pushed, lightly. He tipped back, clawing at the air, and fell. I did not wait to hear him strike the ground. I simply left briskly, shed my disguise, washed out the black dye, and returned to my work.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
They came in, afraid to tell me, thinking I might take it hard. They told me there would be a formal investigation, nothing serious. They were right. Nobody cared enough for Gozaburo to look too closely into his death. Now I own KaibaCorp-a generous bequest, considering I already own half the patents and a good twenty percent of the stock. And the horrible old mansion, and the grounds, and every single book about power he ever owned. Maybe I'll burn them...Or not. Everything's mine. I can make it into my house, not his. He does not control my life anymore. I do.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
And I have just begun to live.  
  
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Whoo! Finished! Ain't I great!  
  
Seto:*Comes out of hiding place behind computer* Could have been worse...  
  
Glad you feel that way, O Shallow One! That means I'll start writing fic about you more often.  
  
Seto:And *why* can't you write stories about the inu like usual?  
  
Because he mysteriously vanished without a trace about the time Shaadi the Interior Decorator of the Soul showed up. Haven't seen him since. Come to think of it, I don't think Pete's been around either...  
  
*Elsewhere* Pete and Jonouchi are somewhere in the Luthor mansion.  
  
Pete:Clark's weirder, you know.  
  
Jou:I doubt it. There's only one of him. Do you think she's worked out we're missing yet?  
  
Pete:I hope not. D'you think Lex would mind if we staged an attack on the model of the mansion with those replica soldiers?  
  
Jonouchi:Nah.  
  
*Back here*  
  
So, anyway, I think I should be spending some time evaluating your character. Do you mind?  
  
Seto:Not really....  
  
Good! I'll get the Prideshippy fic started!  
  
Seto & Yami no Yuugi: WHAAAAAT??!!!! *stare at each other with utmost revulsion*  
  
Gotcha! No, I have no idea for any such fic, and I'm not going looking for one. I have enough ideas as it is. Mata ne, and remember: The review button is gooood....we like reviews.....and people who don't review get an angry mob at their door! 


End file.
